


The Way Home: Missing Pieces

by GiggleSnortBangDead



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A (Big) Penis (Good Omens), Dumb Sex Games, Gabriel Has a Penis (Good Omens), M/M, Overstimulation, Sexual Coercion, Threesome, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiggleSnortBangDead/pseuds/GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary: “All right, break it up, you two,” Gabriel said from the side, his hands on his hips. He hadn’t grabbed anything to clean up with, like Crowley had shooed him off to do; instead, he’d finally gotten naked. “We’re not done.”“We’re not?” Aziraphale hummed, mostly against Crowley’s mouth.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 111





	The Way Home: Missing Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Way Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20525540) by [GiggleSnortBangDead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiggleSnortBangDead/pseuds/GiggleSnortBangDead). 



> i had some important threesome ideas and then remembered that all of the threesomes for _The Way Home_ are over. 
> 
> you'll be missing the Deep Lore if you haven't read the actual fic, but also this is literally just porn

“All right, break it up, you two,” Gabriel said from the side, his hands on his hips. He hadn’t grabbed anything to clean up with, like Crowley had shooed him off to do; instead he’d finally gotten naked. “We’re not done.”

“We’re not?” Aziraphale hummed, mostly against Crowley’s mouth.

“Unless Crowley’s tired.” Gabriel’s face moved through the motions of caring, but it was obvious where he stood on that issue. 

“Nah.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale one last time and then turned his eyes to Gabriel. “I could go for hours.” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale murmured, eyes flaring between them. Crowley left his side to go clean up in the bathroom.

“ _Oh_.” Gabriel grinned, leaning in to run a finger down Aziraphale’s chest and stomach and pubic hair. “This must be the luckiest pussy in the world.”

Aziraphale’s face heated, gaze darting after Crowley like he might not have noticed. “Yes,” he croaked when Gabriel flicked his clit to get his attention. “Yes, it’s—well-attended. Thank you, darling.” He couldn’t bear to look at Crowley when he came back.

“And you.” Gabriel’s hand stayed over Aziraphale’s cunt. “Isn’t this the sweetest snatch you’ve ever had?” 

“Er…” Crowley’s throat worked, swallowing.

“Come on, don’t be shy. You’re one lucky guy to get tail that good, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Crowley rushed. He looked red enough to faint. “Lucky.”

“Like a match made in Heaven,” Gabriel pronounced, his face caught between a sneer and a smile. “His cunt and your mouth.”

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale pushed up, horrified, but Gabriel planted a hand on his chest and kept his back on the bed. 

“I’m kidding,” he said easily. “Crowley gets it, right?” 

Crowley’s mouth twitched, maybe into a smile but Aziraphale couldn’t quite tell. He nodded, and why would he have any reason to say that unless it was true? Aziraphale wished desperately that he understood the joke as well. He felt mortified. 

“Don’t be like that,” Gabriel sighed. He sat on the edge of the bed, one knee bent, one foot on the floor. “Come here.” Aziraphale was urged to settle back in the spread of his legs, head cushioned in Gabriel’s lap. Laid down like that, Azirahale had no choice but to look up at his husband. He smiled, slightly, which Gabriel liked enough to soften around the corners of his eyes. “Knees up, sunshine.” 

“What are we doing?” Aziraphale did as asked anyway and didn’t receive a response outside of Gabriel reaching forward and hooking his hands underneath Aziraphale’s thighs. He pulled Aziraphale’s legs up and back, grip sliding to his calves while Aziraphale’s mouth pursed and he made a weak, uncertain sound. When Gabriel had his hands on Aziraphale’s delicate ankles, he stopped, his hold firm on the tendons, one index finger tickling along the arch of his foot. 

Aziraphale tried to shift, his weight now mostly on his shoulders, pressed up against Gabriel’s thigh, but his legs were held steady. Again, he made that noise, a soft hum in his throat that he couldn't help but make, feeling utterly helpless. 

“What do you think?” Gabriel asked Crowley, not looking down at Aziraphale anymore. “You wanna slither up here and get a taste?” Aziraphale’s face was so hot so quick, he felt dizzy. He had to turn away, trying to press himself against Gabriel and avoid however it was that Crowley was looking at him. “Don’t tell me you just wanna look at it,” Gabriel scoffed when Crowley didn’t move. “Don’t you like it? Aziraphale, tell him how fat and wet your cunt is so he’ll stop just standing there.” 

“Ah,” Aziraphale tried to say, his voice hitching as Gabriel spread his legs a little more, the stretch burning between his thighs and making his clit throb. Crowley knelt on the bed quickly, mercifully, after that. 

“That’s it, _darling_ ,” Gabriel murmured. “Look at that. That’s your come, huh?” 

“Yeah” came out strangled and high. Crowley cleared his throat. Gabriel sighed, losing patience. 

“Look, if you’re not going to start, you might as well leave.”

That was all Crowley needed to hear. Aziraphale felt the ghost of his touch before he settled in, spreading his pussy lips and rubbing his fingers through the mess of slick and spend. His breath tickled against Aziraphale, his nose brushing the ever-sensitive underside of his thigh. Gabriel’s grip on his ankles tightened before Aziraphale even realized he was squirming, trying to rock his hips toward Crowley’s mouth. 

At the first touch of his lips, Aziraphale made a choked, inelegant sound and jolted his legs, his knees aching to bend, all of him wanting to curl around Crowley, to crowd him against where Aziraphale needed him most. 

“If you can’t sit still,” Gabriel huffed, having to struggle against a wave of unintentional, angelic strength, “I can always secure you to the headboard.” He must have known that wasn’t really a threat, because he just laughed when Aziraphale moaned, so loud Crowley paused to glance at him. When he bowed his head to his task once more, Aziraphale had pressed a hand over his mouth to try and stifle the desperate cries that kept hitching out of him. 

Crowley’s mouth was so warm, and his tongue was long and firm and insistent, circling his clit before he wrapped his lips around the nub and sucked. Aziraphale was panting, feeling himself close to gushing, all of him wobbly and hot. 

Gabriel shifted his hold, sliding back down to grip under his knees, spreading Aziraphale’s thighs even further apart. Crowley’s hands quickly came up to grasp Aziraphale’s full hips, apparently needing something to hold on to while he buried his face against Aziraphale’s quient. Aziraphale quivered and shook, and Crowley groaned through every suck, like he felt all of it too. 

“Stop,” Gabriel said, and Crowley took a second before pulling up. Aziraphale cracked an eye open to see his perfect, sharp face coated in slick, wet and shimmering down his chin. Aziraphale promptly shut his eyes tight, unable to bear it. “He’s gonna come if you keep at it.” 

After a still moment, Crowley breathed: “I want him to come.” Aziraphale wanted to come, but he had a feeling he knew what game they were playing. He’d played it before with Gabriel, hundreds of times, and he wasn’t too disappointed to have Crowley brought in, especially when he was such a caring and sweet and skilled lover. 

“Slip your cock into him,” Gabriel said, like it was a suggestion. “He’ll be easy for you. Won’t you, sunshine?”

This time when Aziraphale looked at Crowley, he kept himself together enough to nod. “Yes,” he said, although his voice was barely a whisper. Crowley looked at him, shiny-mouthed and wide-eyed. Aziraphale was struck by an odd sort of adoration, one that was a little sad: Crowley’s normal eyes couldn’t possibly be as beautiful, as wildly expressive, as the slitted snake ones. The yellow had filled his gaze entirely, golden and lovely and all-focused on Aziraphale. 

Crowley pushed up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He shuffled forward, covering Gabriel’s big hands with his own long, slight ones. Oh, if Aziraphale could fall in love with a pair of hands, he might. He wanted to kiss every knuckle, use his tongue to trace the lines of his palm, and suck each finger into his mouth. He wanted to chew the web of his thumb. He wanted to suck the inside of his wrist and taste a pulse. 

As big as Crowley was, Gabriel had been right: Aziraphale opened right up for him. He clenched around him immediately, making Crowley groan and hang his head. Once he’d collected himself, he fucked his hips in, deep and slow. Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered as did the fingers he still had loosely pressed against his lips. Aziraphale swallowed as Crowley set a pace, trying to regain his voice.

“You can come inside,” he begged, soft and just to Crowley. “I want you to come inside.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gabriel snorted. “It’d be pathetic to come that quickly.”

“Or on my stomach,” Aziraphale hushed, reaching forward to catch Crowley’s cheek so they might only see each other. “You can finish wherever you like.” 

“Crowley, my hands are full,” Gabriel said. “Stick your fingers in his mouth for me.” 

“Um,” Crowley said, hips stilling. Gabriel sighed and finally dropped one of Aziraphale’s thighs, muscling himself under Aziraphale and using his index and middle finger to depress his tongue and gag him. 

Aziraphale sucked to keep from drooling. His right thigh was flush against Crowley’s hip, and Gabriel was yanking the left one back even more. Crowley carefully started to thrust again, his prick hitting in so deep and spreading Aziraphale so wide that he was forced to hum around Gabriel’s hand and clench his teeth just to ground himself. 

“Isn’t that nice?” Gabriel asked, harsh against his ear. “You’re all taken care of.” And to Crowley, he said: “Don’t come yet. When you feel like you’re about to come, go back down on him.”

As much as he could, Aziraphale tried to fuck back against him, to milk Crowley’s cock. Too quickly though, Crowley was pulling out, taking one steadying breath, and then shimmying down to work his tongue in. He hooked Aziraphale’s shaking right leg over his shoulder and Gabriel did the same with the left. Gabriel used his now free hand to cup Aziraphale’s chest, palming the soft curve and playing with his nipple.

Having the game to focus on kept Aziraphale a little more alert than he’d usually be with Crowley’s mouth on his clit. He focused on breathing and on not being too loud, even as Gabriel’s touch got meaner, pinching and twisting one nipple and then jumping to abuse the other. He covered his husband’s hand with his own when it started to hurt too much. Even if he was going to come yet, he wanted it to feel pleasant. 

Gabriel let himself be stopped but said: “That’s enough down there. Back to it.” And when Aziraphale sighed, Gabriel added: “Don’t treat him so gently this time. He’s not made of glass.” 

“I’ll treat him how—” Crowley started and then cut himself off. Gabriel laughed. 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you get on top and show him?” He gave Aziraphale a little nudge, ungagging him and watching him tremble into a seated position. 

“Do you mind?” Aziraphale asked, gently palming excess spit off his face. Crowley shook his head. He let Aziraphale put him on his back, grabbing two handfuls of thigh and arse as Aziraphale settled in his lap and reached under himself to touch Crowley’s cock. 

Without another word or glance (Crowley had closed his eyes, after all), Aziraphale guided his prick in, sinking down smoothly and slowly. Once he had Crowley inside, so deep that he almost forewent breathing, he bounced his hips once, twice, and, feeling he had a hang for it, slammed down. 

“Oh, shit.” Crowley bucked up, and Aziraphale had to brace his hands on Crowley’s chest as he picked up a brutal pace, fucking himself cruelly and perfectly. He let his head hang, allowed himself to make a low, animal noise, and completely ignored whatever terrible thing Gabriel was saying from his corner of the bed. 

He didn’t say a thing, but he thought viciously that he would make Crowley come like this. He belonged to Aziraphale, after all. Crowley was his responsibility, his friend, his _man_. If anyone should get to decide when Crowley came, it was someone who adored every inch of his skin, every strand of hair, each atom that made up a human that Aziraphale would be proud to love and protect—had he been human as well, of course. 

Sometime during this, Aziraphale had leaned down, captured Crowley’s lips, and begun to kiss him. “Come inside me,” Aziraphale hushed, and Crowley choked on a whimper that made Aziraphale feel warmer and more lovely than Eden. He was so wonderfully exhausted, but he kept up his rhythm because he was certain he wouldn’t last the next time Crowley went down on him. “Do it for me,” he said, and Crowley nodded. Aziraphale kissed him again, and Crowley did as asked.

Gabriel sighed, although was mostly performative. “I’d say bad luck, Aziraphale, but clearly you got what you wanted.” 

“Huh?” Crowley blinked over at him, dazed and pretty. Aziraphale caught his breath, sitting heavily in his lap. 

“It’s a little thing we do,” Aziraphale explained, quietly. Crowley pet his hips, seeming content to idly touch for some reason. “We count the amount of times we go back and forth. Whoever comes first owes equal to the amount of rounds. It’s like gambling: Gabriel always says it’s not fun if the stakes aren’t high, and so I usually end up being owed upwards of six. And I’m already worn out, I think.” 

Crowley bit his lip, his brow drawing in a way that Aziraphale couldn’t quite read. He felt his nerves settling in, drowning out his lingering arousal. “But of course, we can stop. I didn’t mean _owe_ owe. It’s just a game.” He moved to get off Crowley, suddenly feeling much too heavy. “I’ll just clean up.”

The hands on his hips tightened, Crowley pushing up on his elbows. His mouth was still a tight line, but he didn’t want Aziraphale to leave. “How many times has Gabriel… been owed?”

Aziraphale smiled, although he wasn’t sure it looked right. “Just once.” And when Gabriel huffed, he added: “He’s a much better gambler than I.”

“So,” Crowley swallowed, glancing at Gabriel. “That’s four, then?” 

“He can count,” Gabriel intoned.

“You don’t have to.” 

Crowley sat up, easing Aziraphale off his lap. “I’d like to,” he offered. “Come on, angel,” he said, “Lie back.”

* * *

As Gabriel got up to pour himself a drink, Crowley started kissing his thighs. Crowley had actually begun by kissing him higher: his mouth, and then his neck, followed by his chest and stomach. He’d gone so slowly that Gabriel had gotten bored and decided to stretch his legs. Aziraphale had hardly noticed, because he was shivering again.

“You’re such a mess, angel,” Crowley hummed, nipping his thigh. He inhaled against him, covering up Aziraphale’s own shaky catch of breath. “You don’t have to shake like that; I’ve got you.” 

“ _Ugh_.” Gabriel sipped at his drink and watched from the foot of the bed. “What would your lot say if they heard you talking like that, Crowley?” 

Instead of responding, Crowley closed his eyes. He kissed Aziraphale’s cunthole, staying away from his clit for the moment, hands stroking up his thighs and over his hips. He sucked his seed out of Aziraphale like he’d never get tired of doing it. 

When Aziraphale couldn’t take that anymore, he reached between his legs and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. He didn’t pull; he didn’t have to. Crowley was receptive to guidance, settling at his clit and lavishing it while Aziraphale squirmed. His hair was so soft, and his mouth was so soft, and Aziraphale’s clit was so hard and cunt was aching, and it really took no time at all.

“That’s one,” Gabriel was saying while Aziraphale tried to gather himself up, feeling a little like he might seep out of his corporation if that wouldn’t have frightened Crowley. “Want help with the second?” he asked.

“I can handle it,” Crowley said, only sounding a little offended.

“I know you can handle it, buttercup,” Gabriel scoffed. “Gosh, you don’t have to make this sound like a chore.” He sent Aziraphale an apologetic look. 

“It’s not—” Crowley cut himself off with an exasperated groan. “Sure,” he said as politely as he could manage. “Come help.” 

Gabriel put his drink aside and crawled on the bed beside him. He pushed Azirahale’s legs apart and nuzzled in, licking up Crowley’s spit on Aziraphale’s quim. With a gasp, Aziraphale threaded his hand through Gabriel’s hair, and used his hold on Crowley to urge him down beside his husband. 

He might have been trying to say something, like “Oh my God,” or “Oh Lord,” but it didn’t come out right, two tongues lapping around his clit, playing with each other against his cunt. When Crowley started groaning, Aziraphale glanced down to see that Gabriel had cupped his half-hard prick and was fondling it. Aziraphale had to slam his head back against the pillows after a sight like that, moaning loud and high, each leg hooking over a different back, his grip on their hair tightening until Gabriel groaned. 

“Not so tight, sunshine. You know that.” 

“Uh-huh,” Aziraphale said, and he did his best to lighten up. At that moment, he’d do nearly anything to get Gabriel to go back down, to kiss Crowley around his clit. Each time Crowley whined, the slightest vibrations from his lips sent shockwaves up Aziraphale’s spine. His pussy was starting to almost hurt with how hot it felt and how completely and thoroughly rubbed raw it was. When he came a second time, so quickly he choked on his own drool, his legs started to spasm and he kicked Crowley in the shoulder with his heel. Crowley, like the saint he was, didn’t complain. 

Aziraphale didn’t realize he was crying until Crowley was kissing tears off his cheeks and shushing him. “We can stop,” he said, “Do you wanna stop?” 

“Just a break,” Aziraphale begged, feeling embarrassed over his foolishness. “I’m fine.” 

“A break.” Gabriel repeated. “Crowley, could you go again? Or are you sore too?” 

“Er, no,” Crowley said. “I can go again.” He turned to Aziraphale and grinned, wide and lopsided. “But only if you’ll hold me.” 

His heart swelled so fast, Aziraphale thought he might choke on it. “Of course, dear.” And he spread his arms for Crowley to settle atop him, chest-to-chest. He encircled that slight body, pressing him tight. _Oh, my darling_ , Aziraphale wanted to say, and didn't.

Gabriel rolled his eyes at the display but he lubed his cock and shoved a preliminary finger up Crowley’s hole, testing it. He curled that finger, and Crowley pushed back, back bowing like a cat’s. Aziraphale nudged his leg up against Crowley and hummed in delight as Gabriel massaged that little spot. “Keep doing that, would you, dear? I can feel his prick twitch.” 

“Oh, fuck me,” Crowley grumbled, face pressing against Aziraphale’s neck. He carefully humped his cock into the welcoming give of Aziraphale’s thigh. Gabriel took that as his cue to pull his finger out, wiping it on Crowley’s hip, and line himself up. Gabriel winked at him from over Crowley's shoulder, and Aziraphale turned red as Crowley gasped against his neck. Having nothing to prove, Gabriel fucked Crowley deep and with no sense of urgency. Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s back as he exhaled, no doubt even still overwhelmed on Gabriel’s cock. 

The breath tickling over Aziraphale’s ear and neck, the sounds of Crowley’s stretched pleasure, stoked the fire in his belly, and he snuck a hand between them to play with himself. His clit was still oversensitive, but it felt good to rub above it, groping the fat of his mons and inhaling the cinder-smell of Crowley’s hair. 

“See,” Gabriel said, barely winded. “He says he wants a break, but he can’t go one minute without some kind of attention.” Aziraphale flushed, and Crowley sloppily kissed his cheek, a murmuring sound hushing in his throat but otherwise incoherent. “That’s just one of the things I love about him,” Gabriel teased. Aziraphale dipped a finger down, not caring anymore if his clitoris wasn’t ready. “And one of the reasons I’m such a perfect husband.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale nodded, tightening the arm he had around Crowley’s shoulders. “I love you.”

Gabriel grinned and leaned in to kiss Aziraphale. Pressing so close into Crowley had him choking another one of his delightfully unintelligible sounds. Aziraphale relaxed into the kiss, hips pumping, hand rubbing both against his clit and Crowley’s cock. With Crowley clinging to him like he was, he fell over into his next orgasm, crying out against Gabriel’s lips. 

His hand stilled, but it took a minute for him to become aware of Crowley’s slack weight on top of him, the way he was minutely working his hips to regain that friction. Gabriel grunted, slapped his hips forward a few more times, and came inside Crowley. Clearly, it wasn’t ridiculous when he came fast. He pulled out, leaving Crowley panting on top of Aziraphale, who wiggled his hand from between their pelvises and reached around to touch his hole. Crowley would leak, Aziraphale thought, mind muddly. He’d need to clean up, or else he might become uncomfortable. 

Not pulling up at all, Crowley snaked a hand under himself. Aziraphale thought he might be reaching for a wank, but he bypassed his cock and touched once more the slick heat of Aziraphale’s slit. “Oh, angel,” he strangled out. “So wet. You’re so fucking wet, oh my—oh—oh fuck.”

“Do you want to take me?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale was more than a little relieved because he was starting to feel like he might nod off.

“Come on, you two,” Gabriel said from off the bed, wandering off somewhere; Aziraphale wasn’t really paying attention. “One more.”

“You don’t have to,” Aziraphale murmured. “Here, let me.” He stopped fingering around Crowley’s hole to work a hand back toward his clit and hissed the second he touched it. Crowley pulled him off and pinned his wrist to the bed. 

“Spread a little,” he slurred, and Aziraphale marginally did. “Keep holding me,” he said, never picking his head up. Slowly, he started to grind down, to rub them off together, inelegantly enough that Aziraphale didn’t feel too sore. “Please come,” he rambled. “Please come, angel. Baby, please, oh—you feel so g— you feel perfect. Just come, and we can go to sleep.” 

Aziraphale suddenly felt very weepy again and wasn’t sure why. “Will you hold me?” he shook.

“ _Yes_ ,” Crowley hissed. “Always. I— I—” and his cock twitched and sputtered, spilling come between them. He reached down then, one last time, collecting his spunk and rubbing it into Aziraphale’s pussy. “Come like this,” he pleaded, circling around his clit, never getting too close. “I came for you, please come for me.” 

Unable to fault that logic, Aziraphale did as asked. He sobbed against Crowley’s shoulder as he did, and they collapsed afterward.

**Author's Note:**

> like, other people go on quarantine and actually update stuff, but apparently my self care is to pointlessly add another sex scene to a fic that already has plenty of sex scenes and should have been finished months ago. but also i live in recently-earthquaked state of Utah and am a fragile, shaky baby, so everybody has to be nice to me and leave a nice comment please and thank you
> 
> ([Follow me on my professional fanfiction twitter](https://twitter.com/gigglesnortPro) or [just come kick it with me on my tumbly](https://gigglesnortbangdead.tumblr.com))


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